


It Kills Me To See You Hurt

by Kahtya Sofia (KahtyaSofia)



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: BDSM, Dark Fic Fest, Dubious Consent, Fear Play, Jealousy, Knifeplay, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Sensation Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-07
Updated: 2012-04-07
Packaged: 2017-11-03 04:57:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/377531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KahtyaSofia/pseuds/Kahtya%20Sofia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nate reveals that he enjoys knifeplay during sex. Brad is initially repulsed. Still, something about it attracts him. Even more, he likes a jealous and possessive Nate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Kills Me To See You Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> beta'd by the lovely merzibelle. 
> 
>  
> 
> _You never truly love someone until it kills you to see them hurt._

Brad closes his eyes and concentrates on breathing through his nose as Nate’s hard cock slides back toward his throat again. It slips out until only the head is still between Brad’s lips. Nate pushes in and stays there for several heartbeats. Brad can smell his sweat and the musk of his ball sac. He tests the ropes that secure him, as if they could have grown weak since the last time he’d strained against them.

Nate is too good at tying knots for there to be any give. Brad’s arms are crossed at the small of his back and lashed together with soft cotton ropes. His heels are pressed to his ass and three lengths of rope between hip and thigh prevent him from extending his legs.

There’s a pillow beneath his shoulders that keeps his arms from being crushed by his own weight. It tilts his head back as he lays on the edge of their bed. He can see nothing but Nate’s firm thighs, his blood-red erection, and his swaying ball sac.

The most insidious feature of Nate’s bondage ensemble is the rope around Brad’s throat. It runs between his shoulder blades and ties into the strand around his chest. If Brad tries to lift his head, the rope presses into him, cutting off his breath.

He has no choice but to lay here, helpless and exposed. Brad’s knees are raised and spread, his arms are forced behind his back, and Nate stands in front of him fucking his mouth with powerful and merciless thrusts of his hips.

Brad’s cock is hard and weeping freely against his own belly. He can’t touch himself and Nate hasn’t so much as laid a finger on him in what feels like hours. His jaw aches from accommodating the width of Nate’s dick. All he wants is for Nate to untie him, press him face-down into the mattress and fuck him hard until they both come.

Nate would do it if Brad begged him to. Brad hasn’t reached that level of desperation, yet. If it ever disappoints Nate that Brad never seems able to fully submit when they play like this, he never gives any sign. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t find subtle yet creative ways to punish Brad for it.

Brad’s both relieved and disappointed – a strange combination, that - when Nate withdraws his cock. He’s got no idea what Nate might do next so he drags air into his lungs as quick as he can, going pleasantly lightheaded. Nate leans over him and scrapes thumbnails over Brad’s nipples. He pinches them, twists them, and tugs them away from Brad’s chest. Brad’s groan is part growl; feral and low in his throat.

“You fuckin’ love that,” Nate says on a quiet laugh. “You know how I know? Your dick jumped against your belly.”

“I’d like it better if you sucked it,” Brad replies. It’s the sort of smartass shit he can’t stop himself from saying and keeps him from submitting completely. It’s the kind of thing Nate punishes him for.

Neither of them seems to mind that much.

The bed dips as Nate climbs onto it beside him. Brad shifts carefully sideways on the pillow so he can see him and still breathe. He admires Nate’s body; naked skin glowing, firm muscles flexing, his cock hard and jutting proudly away from its nest of dark golden curls.

“I am, however, giving serious thought to fucking you,” Nate says, grinning wickedly and stroking his erection several times when he knows Brad’s watching.

“No, sir, please don’t, anything but that.” Brad puts no inflection into his voice as he smiles up at Nate. He draws his knees up to his chest. He watches Nate’s sex-flush deepen in hue when his eyes drop down to run hungrily over Brad’s asshole and erection.

Nate twists and retrieves items from a bedside table. He shifts until he’s kneeling between Brad’s open thighs. Brad hisses when Nate shoves a cold, lubed finger into his ass. Nate’s other hand rubs soothing circles into his belly. Brad wills himself to relax around Nate’s intrusive finger.

When Brad feels Nate’s finger slide from his body, he takes a deep breath. He knows what’s coming. The lube is chilly as two of Nate’s fingers push past the resistance of Brad’s hole.

“Remember to breathe,” Nate murmurs, again caressing Brad’s tense belly. He’s rough as he fucks Brad with his fingers. He shoves in clear to his last knuckles and twists his wrist.

Brad arches his back at the stinging stretch of his hole. The burn radiates through his groin and into his lower spine. He moans softly, the sound turning to a loud groan when Nate bends his fingers and presses firmly into the gland deep inside of Brad.

Nate’s fingers slip out of him and Brad makes a sound of protest he’ll deny later. Three slick fingers push into Brad’s ass and he tenses at the burn and discomfort. Nate’s other hand wraps around his straining cock and Brad doesn’t know whether to fuck into his fist or push back against his fingers.

While he’s trying to decide, Brad’s body relaxes around Nate’s fingers.

“I wanna fuck you while you’re tight,” Nate says when he pushes his fingertips into that spot deep inside Brad again.

Brad arches off the bed with a sharp cry, fucking into Nate’s fist. Nate’s fingers inside of him make his thighs tremble as he strains against the ropes binding him.

“Cut me loose, Nate,” Brad demands. He wants to wrap himself around Nate while he’s getting fucked. When Nate’s hands still, Brad realizes his mistake. “Please, sir … cut me loose?” What it lacks in submission it makes up for in desperation.

Nate moves and the bed shifts. Brad feels the heat of Nate’s thighs press against his ass cheeks. He twists his head on the pillow so he can breathe as he watches Nate untie the ropes.

“No,” Nate says distractedly. “I’m not quite ready to untie you, yet.”

Brad is confused when he sees the Ka-Bar in Nate’s hand. It’s got a wide blade and the familiar curving tip. The blade is blackened carbon-steel and the grip is also a stealthy black. An intimidating knife under ordinary circumstances, it is deadly in the hands of someone like Nate.

“What the fuck?” Brad asks, throat tight enough to make his words soft and strained.

“You wanted to be cut loose,” Nate replies with a menacing grin and a lifted eyebrow.

Brad tries to swallow against his clenched throat but his mouth has gone dry. He wonders if Nate can hear his pounding heart. He expects – he wants – Nate to slide the blade quickly through all the ropes and be done with it. He can tell by the glint in Nate’s eyes, that isn’t going to happen. Brad tenses, wondering how long Nate has been suppressing this dark need.

The tip of the knife stings where Nate presses it into the top of Brad’s thigh and drags it down the inside.

“Come on, Nate,” Brad demands, glad his anxiety makes him sound angry. “Stop fucking around and just cut me loose.”

“You don’t always get to be in control of everything,” Nate replies, his eyes hard and mouth pressed into a grim line. “You need to stop being a whiney pussy.”

Brad clenches his jaw to keep himself from responding. Nate seems serious about something he’s always teased Brad about previously. A smartass comment doesn’t feel like a good idea right now.

Nate moves the tip of the knife to another strip of flesh framed by the ropes and scrapes it down Brad’s thigh. Brad holds himself still and waits for Nate to get bored with his new game.

“Your skin is gorgeous,” Nate breathes. “With the ropes criss-crossing it; the way it turns red when I run the tip of the knife along it.”

Brad sucks in a harsh breath when Nate drags the knife tip down his thigh a third time.

“Nate, this isn’t funny,” Brad says, voice tight with his tension.

“I’m not trying to be funny,” Nate says distractedly, eyes focusing on Brad’s other thigh as he raises a red welt there. “I’ll cut you loose in a minute. Stop acting like you’re not enjoying this; your dick’s still hard.”

“It still thinks I’m gonna get fucked,” Brad snaps. “It hasn’t figured out yet, you’ve lost your fucking mind.”

Brad gasps and reflexively jerks his thighs wider. He’s startled by the sting and loud sound of Nate slapping the flat of the blade against his thigh. Nate’s grip on Brad’s other thigh is bruising and painful. Brad can’t evade the next stinging slap of the flat of the Ka-Bar blade against his skin.

Adrenaline spikes through his system and Brad struggles against his restraints. “Fuck,” he growls. “Knock this shit off.”

Brad freezes, eyes wide and breathe caught in his throat, as Nate lunges upward and looms over him. He swallows with difficulty; Nate’s hand gripping his throat is constricting. Nate’s eyes are ablaze with a dark glee that turns Brad’s blood to ice water. He tries to break Nate’s hold on his throat as he forces Brad’s chin higher.

Brad makes a strangled sound of protest as he catches sight of the wicked blade clenched in Nate’s fist. He watches in silent horror as Nate’s hand descends. He expects blinding pain to follow the unmistakable feel of the knife blade slicing across this throat.

He exhales audibly when he realizes his throat hasn’t been slit. Brad drags a harsh breath in through his open mouth. Nate must have used the blunt side of the blade. Brad’s extremities are tingling and he shudders violently. Nate’s face hovers just above his and he’s smiling. Brad’s stomach does a queasy roll, bile rising at the look of enjoyment in Nate’s eyes.

“Jesus-fucking-Christ! What the fuck is wrong with you?” Brad’s shout is pitifully weak.

“I thought you trusted me,” Nate says challengingly. He tilts his head to the side. “I didn’t hurt you. I thought you had more faith in me than apparently you do.”

Guilt floods Brad in response to Nate’s words. It’s beyond fucked. Brad trusts Nate but the way he’s enjoying Brad’s fear is sick and twisted. He can feel Nate’s erection pressing hard into his own groin.

Brad is about to speak when he feels cold metal on is cheekbone. From the corner of his eye he watches the tip of the knife slide up his face with excruciating slowness, until Nate rests it against the edge of Brad’s eye.

“I trust you, Nate,” Brad says carefully. His chest is heaving with each of his desperate breaths. “I just didn’t know you like this kind of thing. I wasn’t ready.”

Nate trails the knife tip down Brad’s cheek and along his jaw. Brad gasps at the feel of the sharp point pressing into his soft, vulnerable throat. He doesn’t dare swallow.

Releasing Brad abruptly, Nate sits back on his heels. Brad’s head is swimming and he thinks he’s about to puke.

Nate chuckles and presses the flat of the blade to a patch of skin between Brad’s groin and the last rope on his thigh. He scrapes the blade’s edge toward Brad’s cock.

“Nate!” Brad can’t help struggling.

“Shhhh,” Nate soothes, as if Brad’s a fussy child. “I’m too fond of your dick to do it any harm, and you know I’m better with this thing than to let it slip.”

Brad can’t close his legs because Nate’s between them. He can’t move away without choking himself out. He’s got no choice but to endure this and trust Nate not to hurt him irrevocably. He struggles to steady his breathing as Nate scrapes the flat of the blade down his other thigh, stopping just short of his flagging erection.

Nate’s fingers wrap around his cock, jacking him smoothly in a tight grip. Brad gasps. He can’t quite suppress his shudder. He’s surprised he’s still even a little bit hard.

“Come on, Nate,” Brad says quietly, hoping to cajole since demanding hadn’t worked. “Stop fucking around and just cut me loose.”

“Not yet,” Nate whispers, eyes feverish.

Brad jumps despite himself when the point of the knife presses painfully into his ass cheek. “Fuck,” he whispers as Nate pushes the sharp point into Brad’s ass cheeks over and over. His ass is full of stinging cuts. With each new puncture, Brad can feel a trickle of blood slide down his skin.

He knows he’s lying in a pool of his own blood and he can’t believe Nate’s taken it this far. Brad pulls at the ropes tied around him. “Fuck, Nate!” Brad cries. “That’s enough. You’ve gone too far.”

“Look at me, Brad,” Nate says firmly, voice chillingly calm. Brad’s still struggling against his restraints. “Brad! Look at me!”

It’s the tone Brad’s been conditioned to obey without question for years now. His eyes snap involuntarily to Nate’s. He feels Nate run a palm over one of his bloody ass cheeks. Nate lifts his hand and displays his palm for Brad to see.

It doesn’t make sense. Brad can’t make sense of what he’s seeing. Or rather, what he’s not seeing. Brad’s weak with relief when it finally sinks in that Nate’s hand is completely free of blood.

“Fucking Bastard,” Brad says under his breath. He realizes Nate used his fingers to cleverly simulate the sensation of tricking blood. He’d be impressed if _he_ wasn’t the one Nate was fucking with.

“Now, now,” Nate mocks him. “You need to show a little more trust and respect.”

Brad bites back a sound of distress at the cool press of the metal blade against his lower belly. Brad clenches the muscles of his stomach. His skin burns as the blade scrapes upward. He knows the knife is sharp enough that it’s cutting through the sparse hair on his belly. Upward, Nate guides the blade. His other hand wraps tight around Brad’s cock, stroking just enough to keep it hard.

Nate stops when he reaches Brad’s sternum. “That is so fucking hot,” he says in a tone Brad only ever hears him use when they fuck.

Brad thinks the skin of his belly is abraded. It’s surely turning red as Nate watches. It may even be weeping blood. He shivers.

Nate’s expression is delighted. “I wonder if I can get you to do that again.”

Brad gasps when he feels the Ka-Bar’s tip press sharply just above his nipple and scrape across his chest. He bites the inside of his cheek and struggles to hold himself still. Brad knows Nate’s good enough not to slip and cut him seriously, but Nate’s different tonight, and Brad’s not as sure of things as he usually is.

When Nate scrapes the knife tip above Brad’s other nipple, he also strokes his cock firmly. Brad’s hips press up despite himself, the pleasure drowning out the slight pain as well as his fear.

Nate rises up over him and Brad flinches. He can’t fucking believe he flinched. The heat of Nate’s thighs is scalding as he presses against Brad’s ass. He feels Nate’s hard cock slide against his own. A surge of blood rushes into Brad’s dick as Nate’s erection glides against him. Nate puts a strong hand on Brad’s sternum and leans forward. Brad is pinned by Nate’s weight. He’s thankful for the pillow that takes the stress off his arms and shoulders.

They’ve been in this position more times than Brad can count. The bed seems to tilt beneath him when Brad looks up into Nate’s face and sees something darker than the desire and affection he’s used to. Nate’s expression is hostile, his eyes crazed. Brad’s ashamed to have been so fucking blinded by his feelings he’d missed this dark side to Nate.

A fresh wave of adrenaline rushes through Brad’s system. He wants to grind against Nate. He wants Nate to slide his cock downward and fuck him until he forgets this crazy night. The sight of Nate’s expression and the way he’s lowering the Ka-Bar toward Brad’s throat, has Brad tensed and ready to fight back. He swears silently at the knowledge that he’s bound and helpless. How the fuck did this even happen?

Nate presses the tip of the knife to the hollow of Brad’s throat and pushes in. It’s painful. Brad clenches his jaw against a wave of nausea. It’s not the pain; it’s knowing how turned on by all this Nate is. He’s feeding off of Brad’s pain and fear.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous like this,” Nate says. He’s smiling down at Brad. It’s the same smile that steals Brad’s breath and quickens his pulse. It’s wide and bright. Now Brad realizes Nate’s been using it to keep Brad distracted from the truth. “Your face is flushed and you’re breathing heavy. There’s fear in your eyes and you _still_ manage to look defiant. It’s really fucking hot.”

This can’t be real. Brad wonders if he’s having some sort of PTSD nightmare. Nothing feels real, including his own body.

Slowly, Nate drags the knife tip from Brad’s throat to his chest. A sharp, stinging pain lances through Brad’s nipple. He hisses through his teeth. Brad would have jerked violently in reaction if Nate’s weight didn’t have him pinned to the bed.

Nate lifts the knife and the pain eases. Brad is shocked when Nate lowers his head and Brad’s abused nipple is enveloped in the wet heat of his mouth. He wants to bite back his moan of pleasure but there’s no fucking way; it feels too good to Brad’s fucked up system. Nate grinds down against him, his cock dragging wetly against Brad’s belly and erection. He can’t fucking believe he’s still hard.

Nate lifts his head and Brad braces for the next assault. He shouts when the flat of the blade smacks against his other nipple several times. The sharp pain in back when Nate presses the tip into the nipple. Again, Brad would have shifted violently if Nate hadn’t been holding him down. Nate’s tongue and lips on his tortured nipple are too much.

Brad is mortified when he sobs once. “Enough, Nate. Please. Enough.”

Nate smiles down at him and it’s laced with menace. “You’re so worked up, I bet your core temp has spiked. I bet your ass would feel extra hot around my dick.”

“Find out,” Brad suggests, desperate to even his own ears. “Cut me loose and we can fuck.”

Nate sits back on his heels. “You have such a greedy hole,” he says quietly, expression shuttered. Fear spikes through Brad at the cold look on Nate’s face. “You want your hole filled up?”

Before Brad can answer, something hard pushes past the clenched opening of his body. It’s cool, rigid and hard as it shoves relentlessly into his ass. Brad shouts and arches in his restraints. He’s mortified to realize Nate’s fucking him with the hilt of the Ka-Bar.

Brad wants to hate it. He wants it to hurt so he can hate it. The hilt of the knife isn’t overly wide but it’s large enough to stretch him. It’s hard and inflexible and feels good sliding in and out of him. The hilt is rough and it teases the rim of his hole mercilessly.

“Look at you.” Brad can barely hear Nate’s pleased voice over the sound of his own debauched moans. “You always look so beautiful when you’re being fucked.

Brad’s heard that awestruck tone before but he’s not falling for it anymore. All clear thoughts flee his mind when Nate tilts the knife and sends the pommel slamming into his prostate. Sparks rocket through Brad’s body, centering low in his belly and running the length of his spine. His throat is raw from his shouts. He’s rushing headlong toward his orgasm.

The knife hilt slides from Brad’s body, leaving him feeling empty and desperate. “Jesus Christ! What the fucking fuck?”

Nate’s suddenly looming over him. Brad can’t breathe past Nate’s grip on his throat. He stares up into Nate’s enraged face and lays frozen as he watches the Ka-Bar descend toward his face. Brad squeezes his eyes shut, waiting for the blinding pain of the blade sinking into his skull. Instead, he hears it plunge into the mattress just beside his ear. He feels the breeze of it as it passes by his cheek.

When Nate doesn’t move for several excruciating moments, Brad carefully opens his eyes. Nate’s expression is fierce as his face hovers inches above Brad’s. Turning slowly to look at the knife buried in the mattress beside his head, Brad has to blink several times to make sure of what he’s seeing. He’s stunned. Nate’s fist is pressed to the bed, several inches from Brad’s head, the hilt clutched in his fingers. The blade is turned _away_ from them.

Brad is weak with relief when he realizes he was never in any danger from Nate. He exhales audibly and turns back to look at Nate. Brad licks his parched lips. Nate watches the movement and Brad watches him closely in return. Nate’s eyes are warming and his expression growing softer.

When Nate releases Brad’s throat, he leans down and presses their mouths together. Brad pushes up into the kiss, licking at Nate with a hunger that’s nearly desperate. The lust and affection that leeches into him are a balm to his nerves, made raw by Nate pushing him past his known limits.

Nate’s grinding his cock down into Brad’s, his hips circling slowly. Brad pushes against him, trying to keep their tongues rubbing together at the same time he tries to get friction against his dick. He’s coming apart and he’s not sure what it is that can hold him together.

“Hold still,” Nate says softly when he breaks the kiss. He holds Brad’s chin gently this time.

Brad tenses at the feel of the knife blade slipping between his bare skin and the rope at his neck. “Nate,” he pleads. He’d thought this was over.

“Ssshhhh,” Nate sooths, his smile comforting. “I’m cutting you loose.”

Brad sighs in relief when the ends of the rope fall away from his throat. He holds his breath when Nate slices through the rope around his chest, but manages to stay still. He’s trembling now. Brad’s not sure if it’s the prolonged tension or his overwhelming relief.

Nate sits up and carefully saws through the ropes of Brad’s first leg. He sets aside the Ka-Bar and uses both strong hands to massage Brad’s tortured muscles. Brad hisses when he tries to straighten his leg and Nate shushes him, still rubbing circulation back into the protesting limb. With Nate’s help, Brad finally gets his leg straightened out.

They repeat the process on Brad’s second leg. He’s enjoying the feel of Nate’s hands massaging him. Brad’s still trembling as his brain replays the events of the last little while over and over. He realizes just how frightened of Nate he was and just how fucking aroused that made him. He’s still painfully turned on by it, despite his protesting muscles.

Nate helps him shift onto his side so the ropes binding his arms can be cut away. Brad is awash in shame. Instead of punching Nate in the fucking face for using Brad as part of his sick and twisted little sex game, he wants to spread his legs so Nate can fuck him slow and deep. Brad swallows back bile when he remembers Nate’s malevolent expression and it nearly makes him come. This is so wrong, and Nate did this to him.

Brad moans and stretches as Nate helps ease the tight muscles of his newly freed arms and shoulders. Nate’s belly brushes against Brad’s hard cock. Brad’s hips push up into Nate, against Brad’s will. He makes an embarrassed sound and Nate misinterprets it.

“Fuck, I love you like this,” Nate breathes against Brad’s ear. He’s lying on top of Brad and rubbing against him. “You look fucking wrecked but your dick is so hard it bet it hurts. I’m afraid you’ll come if I touch it.”

Brad’s so fucked up, Nate’s twisted words make him happy.

Nate shifts, settling between Brad’s legs and lifting them to wrap around his hips. He reaches between them and Brad feels Nate’s erection pressing insistently against his tightly clenched hole. Nate settles over Brad’s body, mouthing incessantly at his jaw and neck. He’s breathing heavier than Brad’s ever heard; even after PT in the desert. When Nate thrusts his hips, Brad relaxes and Nate’s cock slides easily into his body.

Brad moans, but it’s lost in the sound of Nate’s harsh groan. Nate’s hands are restless. They slide over Brad’s arms until their palms are pressed together and fingers entwined. Brad’s arms are pushed up over his head. Nate keeps their hands clasped as he rests on his elbows and fucks into Brad at a leisurely pace. Brad turns his head into Nate’s, rubbing his face against the stubble on Nate’s cheek. He listens to Nate’s frantic breathing, broken only by the occasional murmured endearment.

Nate’s belly rubs against Brad’s straining, aching cock. That sensation melds with the feel of Brad’s hole stretching and clenching around Nate’s erection. Brad feels filled and complete when Nate’s hips press against his ass. He feels empty, desperate, when Nate pulls out until just the crown is stretching Brad’s rim. He’s squeezing Nate’s hands in a grip he knows is painful but he can’t relax. Nate’s belly gliding along Brad’s dick is pushing him. He’s going to fall and he’s going to do it soon. Brad shudders.

His orgasm slams into him explosively. Brad gasps and arches his spine off the bed. His eyes squeeze shut and his mouth hangs open but he’s silent. He’s wrapped around Nate, still squeezing their clasped hands.

Nate presses his lips to Brad’s cheek. “Yeah, that’s it,” he whispers. “I wanna feel you come.” He fucks Brad relentlessly, never faltering in his steady pace.

Brad’s cock swells as Nate’s belly continues to slide over it with each thrust of his hips. Brad trembles violently, shockwaves rolling down the length of his spine. He’s sure sparks are showering the inside of his skull. His dick pulses mightily and his balls throb. He feels the first string of his own hot come mark him from chest to belly.

“Fuck,” Brad shouts hoarsely, collapsing onto the bed as he shudders endlessly. Nate keeps fucking him and there are so many sensations assaulting him, Brad looses track. His belly is warm where he’s covered himself with his own spunk.

When he’s finally released from the grip of his orgasm, Brad can’t seem to control his own body. He can’t loosen his grip on Nate’s hands. His legs have slipped from Nate’s hips and Brad can’t seem to lift them. His chest is heaving and his lips are parched. He can’t form a coherent thought, let alone speak.

Nate’s propped on his elbows, slamming into Brad’s ass. His eyes are closed and he’s chanting. “Close … so close … fuck … I’m gonna come … gonna fucking come inside you …”

Suddenly, Nate grunts and his spine bows. He throws his head back and his eyes shut tightly. His grip on Brad’s fingers grows more painful. Brad watches Nate’s jaw clench and release, just as he feels the first splash of come flood the inside of his ass. Nate’s cock twitches rhythmically inside of him as Nate lays pressed to Brad. His body quakes and each wave rolls through Brad as well.

Nate is nearly silent as he comes. Brad doesn’t remember him every doing that before.

“Oh, fuck,” Nate hisses when his body releases him. He folds forward over Brad, and he presses his face to Brad’s neck. “Holy fucking fuck,” he says in a raw voice.

If Brad could speak, he’d agree.

Nate kneels up and runs his hands over Brad’s body. He looks down at him with concern and affection. “Are you okay?” he asks, his concern appears genuine.

Brad can only nod his affirmative. He still can’t speak.

“You need to get under the covers,” Nate says, tugging the bedclothes down and urging Brad to shift across the bed to climb beneath them. “You’re body temp is going to plummet as you come down.”

Brad is slow and sluggish. His extremities are tingling, he’s light headed, and he can’t get his arms and legs to cooperate with his brain. When Nate is satisfied that Brad’s tucked into bed, he climbs off. “I’ll get you something to drink.”

Nate returns with a drink box of apple juice and a large bottle of sports drink. He props himself on pillows and Brad is forced to lean back against his chest. Nate holds the juice while Brad drinks. He’d protest that he’s not helpless except, apparently, he is.

When the juice is gone, Nate runs his hands over Brad’s body. He rubs briskly to encourage warmth and he massages at think bunches of muscle and tortured joints.

“Are you back with me?” Nate asks.

“Yeah,” Brad answers, surprised at how raw he sounds. “I never left.”

“In a way you did,” Nate says quietly, thoughtfully. “You couldn’t talk for a few minutes. There were a couple of times you actually believed I could hurt you.”

“We didn’t discuss this.” Brad’s anger flares.

“You wouldn’t have gone as deep as you did,” Nate’s reply is placid.

“You went a little too far.”

“You didn’t use your safeword.”

Brad snaps his mouth closed. As freaked as he’d been, it had never occurred to him to stop. A part of him had known and understood.

“That doesn’t mean I enjoyed it,” Brad says instead. “I’ve never seen you look or act like that and I didn’t like it.”

“I’m not really like that.” Nate’s hands are warm as they continue to rub soothingly over Brad’s skin. “That’s why it’s called role-play.”

Brad snorts a laugh. “You were doing more than playing a role.”

Nate takes the lid off the sports drink bottle and holds it out. Brad silently curses his still trembling hand as he reaches for it. Nate helps him hold it steady and to drink.

“Oh, I got off on the power and control,” Nate says bluntly, running one hand over Brad’s hair. “You know me, that can’t come as any surprise.”

Brad hands off the empty drink bottle. “You didn’t see yourself.” Brad shudders as he’s assailed by memories of Nate’s expression. “It’s not a side of you I care to see again.”

“You need to be honest and admit there were aspects of it you enjoyed,” Nate murmurs against Brad’s neck. One hand slides down Brad’s belly and cups his spent and flaccid cock.

“You were naked and rubbing up against me,” Brad replies. “My body is conditioned to respond to you in a specific way.”

Nate chuckles. “I have the same reaction to you.”

Brad sighs, suddenly struggling to keep his eyes open. “I need to sleep,” he announces abruptly.

Nate kisses Brad’s temple. “I’m sure you do.” He shifts them both around until Brad can lie on his side, Nate wrapped around his back. “Are you really opposed to doing this again?” Nate asks on a sigh.

“I don’t know,” Brad answers, burrowing his head into his pillow. “I’m still not sure how I feel about knowing you get off on fear and pain.” He really doesn’t like knowing Nate gets off on _his_ fear and pain. He feels slightly ill just remembering.

“Fair enough,” Nate whispers against the back of Brad’s head. “Can we revisit it in a few weeks?”

“Yeah,” Brad agrees on a sigh. Nate has asked, so of course Brad agrees.

~*~

Brad stares down into his nearly empty drink and contemplates if he wants another. He and Nate are taking the train home so driving isn’t an issue. Self-control and image are of a more primary concern to Nate.

Glancing across the room to where Nate stands, deep in conversation, Brad decides he’ll have one more and that’s it. Nate’s glass is still mostly full so he doesn’t need a refill. He crosses to the open bar and gets his drink.

Brad knows he should be mingling, if for no other reason than it reflects well on Nate. He’s just tired. He’s dreading the party next week because he’ll have to wear his Class A. It’s small comfort that he won’t be the only one.

“I thought this would be more fun,” says a female voice at his elbow.

Brad glances down and sees a curvy blond wearing what women usually call a ‘little black dress’. Her eyes are brown and she’s giving him a saucy smile.

Well, hell. Brad wonders if this would happen as often if he were involved with a woman, instead of Nate.

“Why would you think that?” he asks politely. He glances at Nate, wondering if this was one of those events where he has to be the last one to leave.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she gestures around the room with her full drink. “Highly educated, politically influential people, most of who are under fifty. It’s unusual enough I thought it might be fun.”

“I have it on good authority that some of the attendees are interesting people,” Brad replies. “They just don’t let it show at functions like this, where they know people are watching.”

The woman introduces herself as Sarah and seems to take Brad’s polite conversation as an invitation. She’s flirting openly with him, touching his arm and even leaning against him as she laughs. He wonders if Sarah knows who he is and if she does, if she even cares.

Her attention is flattering but he’d rather think of something to go whisper in Nate’s ear just so Brad can inhale his scent. He’s so happy he’s almost fucking giddy when Nate appears beside him.

Brad re-introduces Sarah to Nate, since they’d met earlier in the evening.

“You’re here with Todd Evans, aren’t you?” Nate inquires and Brad can tell there’s something behind it.

Sarah’s smile falters just slightly. “That’s right.”

“I’ll have to speak to him about the wisdom of abandoning his date in a room full of strangers.” Nate’s smile has teeth, in more ways than one.

“He seemed pretty engrossed in a serious conversation when I left him,” she confesses.

“Still, this is a social occasion. He’s not going to influence policy until Monday at the earliest.” Nate’s smile dims almost imperceptibly. “Was Gunnery Sergeant Colbert keeping you sufficiently entertained in Todd’s absence?”

The hair on Brad’s arms stands up. He recognizes Nate’s tone; he’s used it a few time himself, when he’d thought someone’s interest in Nate went beyond mild curiosity. He’s pretty sure he’s not the one Nate’s angry with and he’s damn sure going to keep it that way.

“Gunnery Sergeant?” Sarah’s surprise is obvious. “Thank you for your service,” she says to Brad, raising her glass and running a hand up his arm. “I never would have guessed you were military.”

Brad realizes she’s got no idea who he is or his connection to Nate. Seriously? Who brings a date to a work function and doesn’t point out the boss’s significant other?

Brad is already removing Sarah’s hand from his arm when Nate’s smile fades completely. He looks pointedly at where she’s touching Brad before he lifts his eyes to Brad’s. Nate’s expression is dark and both of his brows lift challengingly.

“That’s how Nate and I met,” Brad says, wondering if the hint is enough.

“Really?” Sarah looks to Nate for confirmation.

Without looking away from Brad’s eyes, Nate reaches out and snags Brad’s drink. Brad’s so surprised he doesn’t resist. Still looking him straight in the eye, Nate takes a swallow. He doesn’t hand the glass back.

Brad lifts his own eyebrow in response.

“Yeah, really,” Nate says sharply, still looking at Brad.

If Sarah doesn’t pick up on the hint – grown men just _do not_ drink from one another’s glasses – or sense the palpable shift in mood, then she’s just stupid.

“How long ago was that?” Sarah asks.

Nate’s eyes finally shift back to her. He holds out his hand toward Brad. Without thinking, Brad takes it. “Sarah, if you’ll excuse us?” Nate says. Without waiting for a reply, he turns and tugs Brad into step beside him.

On their way toward the door, Nate stops and hands the now-empty glass to Todd Evans. “Word of warning,” he says firmly. “If you’re going to bring someone like that to a _work_ function, you’d better stick close to ensure she doesn’t jeopardize your career.”

It’s a veiled threat of the kind Brad’s never heard Nate make before. He lets himself be pulled from the room, unresisting, he’s that surprised.

In the breezeway, Nate pushes Brad in front of him and keeps him moving forward with a hand on his back.

“What’s going on, Nate?” Brad asks.

“I’m texting someone to make my apologies for me, since I left so abruptly.” Brad can hear the faint clicking of cell phone keys being depressed.

They retrieve their coats and walk in silence to the nearby train station. As they stand on the platform, waiting, Nate steps into Brad’s space and presses his nose to the tender side of Brad’s jaw.

“It’s a damn good thing you don’t smell like her,” he hisses just before he steps away.

Brad’s anger spikes. “She didn’t get that close,” he snaps. “I didn’t let her.”

“I know you didn’t,” Nate says mildly. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Good,” Brad says quietly, still unsure of Nate’s mood.

Stepping back in to press his body against Brad’s, Nate says, “Doesn’t mean I like it when other people touch what’s mine.”

Brad would protest Nate’s possessiveness, except the way his dick is pushing against the fly of his trousers seems to indicate that Brad kinda likes it.

The train ride is comfortable, if somewhat quiet. Nate answers questions but doesn’t seem in the mood for conversation. Once, Brad starts to explain what had happened with Sarah, but Nate cut him off with a shake of his head.

“Not here,” he says quietly.

Once they’re inside their house, Nate’s demeanor changes. Brad grunts at the sharp pain in his lip when Nate crashes their mouths together. He tries to steady himself by clutching at Nate. His arms are trapped at his sides as Nate pushes his coat off his shoulders. Nate’s hands are rough on his face as he holds Brad still for the assault on his mouth.

Nate shoves at Brad’s chest, forcing back toward the stairs. Nate shrugs out of his own coat and leaves it on the floor along with Brad’s. Nate’s expression is menacing. Brad decides he’d better keep backing toward the stairs. Nate stalks him.

“I hated seeing her hand on you,” Nate snarls.

Brad’s heart slams against his ribs. He can’t catch his breath. His cock hangs heavily between his legs and continues to harden.

“I didn’t let her,” Brad reminds him.

Nate lunges. Brad’s tie is wrapped around Nate’s fist and he’s pulled down for a bruising kiss. “I know you didn’t,” Nate breathes hotly against his lips. “But she touched something that belongs to me and I have to reclaim my territory.”

Brad has no choice but to follow Nate up the stairs, his tie still wrapped in Nate’s clenched hand. Inside the bedroom, he watches mutely as Nate strips him of his tie. When Nate shoves him down onto the bed, Brad tries to turn onto his back so he can watch Nate, so he can hold onto him.

Nate is brutal as he forces Brad face down, straddling his hips. Brad’s mouth goes dry when Nate pulls one of his arms behind him and begins to secure Brad’s tie around his wrist.

“No,” Brad says loudly, trying to pull himself free. “I didn’t encourage her.”

Nate is heavy when he lies over Brad. His breath is hot against the shell of Brad’s ear. “I’m not punishing you, Brad.”

Brad shivers. “You’re tying me up.”

“I’m claiming what’s mine.” Nate bites his earlobe.

Brad grunts and grinds his nearly hard cock into the bed. He can’t muster any resistance when Nate ties his wrists behind him with the tie.

Nate’s moving quickly. Brad feels the bed shift and his shoes and socks are being removed. He hears clothes rustle just before Nate is back, strong hands forcing him into the center of the bed. Nate’s stripped off his own suit coat and tie.

When Brad feels Nate palm the back of his head and hold him steady, he groans and closes his eyes. Brad presses up into Nate’s weight, liking the feel of it pinning him down. He pushes his hips forward and rubs his fully-hard cock against his zipper. He wishes he had Nate’s hand around his erection.

“She was watching you from across the room. Did you know that?” Nate’s voice was rough in Brad’s ear. He licks Brad’s earlobe.

Brad shivers. “No.”

Nate places open mouthed kisses along the length of Brad’s neck. “She looked fucking predatory. She was practically licking her lips.”

“I didn’t know because I was watching you.”

“Damn good thing, too.” Nate bites the tendon at the back of Brad’s neck.

Brad’s spine bows and he moans lewdly.

“I watched you being so polite. I need to hang a fucking sign around your neck that tells everyone who you belong to.” Nate’s other hand yanks down Brad’s collars and he licks a path along Brad’s newly bared shoulder.

“She wouldn’t go away.”

“That’s why I took you away from her.”

Nate sits up and leaves Brad feeling adrift. He’s ready for Nate to shift over so Brad can lift his hips. He expects Nate to strip off his suit trousers and fuck him. Instead, he’s confused by the hard tugs on his suit coat and the unmistakable sounds of rending fabric.

“What the fuck?” Brad lifts his head to try to peer over his shoulder. It feels and sounds like Nate’s cutting away Brad’s clothes.

“No, no, no,” Nate says gently, pushing Brad’s head back down onto the pillow. “No quick movements. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Brad lies tensely and listens to what he’s sure is Nate slicing down the back of his jacket with a Ka-Bar.

“Not to let practical matters interfere with a good time, but are you destroying my suit?” he asks hesitantly. He still remembers how menacing Nate was the last time he’d wielded the Ka-Bar and Brad hopes humor will keep things light this time.

Nate’s hands are at his wrist and he knows the sleeves of his suit are next.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” Nate growls. “I can’t look at this suit anymore, without seeing her touching it; touching _you_ while you wore it.”

Brad shuts his eyes as his dick threatens to punch through the fly of his trousers. He breathes out in a rush, like he’s been punched. He likes this angry, jealous, possessive Nate. He’s just afraid of what this Nate is going to do with that knife.

From the corner of his eye he sees the ruined strips of fabric, which used to be his suit, fly across the room. Nate shifts again and with a hand on his arm, helps Brad to his knees.

Brad tilts backward on his knees to press his back to Nate’s chest. He smells Nate’s aftershave, feels the heat of him through the fabric of their shirts. He ignores the coolness of the knife blade sliding along his neck and down his collarbone. He keeps his eyes closed and feels Nate nuzzle the side of his throat.

He holds himself still as Nate cuts away the buttons on Brad’s shirt with the knife. When Nate’s done, he holds the flat of the blade against the pulse in Brad’s neck.

“She might’ve seen how good you look in the suit, but she doesn’t get to see this,” Nate breathes.

Brad feels the heat of his breath across his cheek. Nate’s free hand grabs his chin roughly and turns him. Brad presses his forehead to Nate’s.

“Kiss me,” Nate speaks softly but it’s clearly an order. “Come on, kiss me.”

Brad leans toward him but Nate pulls back slightly. Brad feels denied and moves in again, eyes locked on Nate’s swollen mouth. He chases Nate, growling in frustration when Nate evades him again, this time smiling.

“Kiss me,” Nate demands again and this time doesn’t retreat.

Their mouths collide and Brad doesn’t care that it hurts. He shoves his tongue into Nate’s mouth and licks at him hungrily. Nate is right there with him, kissing back with equal aggression. Brad doesn’t care that there’s a knife blade lying against his throat.

“Would you have kissed her like this?” Nate asks, breathless.

“No,” Brad answers without having to think. “I don’t want her. I don’t kiss anyone but you.” It’s a truth Brad never thought he’d ever voice.

Nate guides Brad’s head back until it’s resting against his shoulder. Brad shudders when Nate’s open mouth presses to his neck. His hips push forward into nothing as Nate licks at him, mouths his jaw and tongues his ear.

Brad’s body jerks violently when his nipple is pressed flat by the knife blade. He moans despite himself as Nate uses the carbon-steel to caress Brad and make the flesh harden. His nipple is more sensitive than he thought it could get.

The scrape of the cutting edge forces a gasp from Brad’s lips. He braces for pain that never comes. When his nerve endings settle, he realizes it felt good.

“You like that, don’t you?” Nate asks, pressing the blade flat to Brad’s other nipple.

Brad inexplicably hesitates to answer. Maybe he’s afraid saying yes will cause Nate to think he’s changed his mind about liking to play with the knife. His nipple growing hard under the circling blade is probably answer enough.

“Your body tells me you like this.” Nate bites the tendon in the back of Brad’s neck. “Just say that I make you feel good. Just say it.” It’s spoken as an order but sounds like a plea.

“Fuck yes, you make me feel good,” Brad confesses. The sharp edge flicks his nipple and his hips flex violently. Brad grunts. Adrenaline floods his system and he senses a tingling in his brain and in his fingers.

Brad glances down at his body. His nipples are hardened, pink buds. His chest is heaving and his stomach is clenched. His erection tents his trousers obscenely and there’s a wet spot that looks like he’s pissed himself. He hasn’t, though. He’s not scared, this time. He’s fucking turned on.

Nate’s free hand reaches for Brad’s belt. Brad watches in fascination as Nate manages the contraption with a single hand. He tugs it from around Brad’s waist and discards it.

“Lay down,” Nate orders, already grasping Brad’s arm to help ease him down.

He knows what’s coming. Brad feels Nate start at one ankle. He feels the tugging along the length of his leg and hears the fabric giving way to the progress of the blade. When Nate cuts clear through the waist, Brad expects to feel the ruined trousers pulled from his body and discarded. Instead, Nate starts at his other ankle and slowly cuts a path up Brad’s leg.

He realizes this isn’t a means to an end for Nate. He’s getting pleasure from destroying Brad’s clothing by cutting it away from his body.

“She was dying to get into your pants,” Nate mutters. Brad thinks he might be talking to himself. He starts to strip away the tattered remnants of Brad’s trousers. “Just let her try it now. Standing there right in front of me; ogling what’s mine. Touching what belongs to me. Did she think I wouldn’t care? I fucking _protect_ what’s mine.”

Brad can’t catch his breath. He’s fucking lightheaded even though he’s lying down. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t need protecting. Nate is claiming him. Nate’s fucking pissed off that someone tried to come between them. It’s almost beyond comprehension that Brad could matter this much to someone like Nate.

His cock suddenly feels constricted. His skivvies are riding up between his legs and beginning to crush his balls. Brad gasps. He’s about to say something when he feels Nate’s arm move in a sawing motion. He’s gathered the entire garment in his hand and is cutting through it.

“She was playing with fire and had no fucking clue,” Nate murmurs. “She wouldn’t know what to do with you if she ever got you. I’m the _only one_ who can take everything you have to give.”

Brad silently agrees. He can’t form words. He grunts at the burns left behind when Nate tears the shredded cotton from his hips. He hopes it leaves marks on him; proof of Nate’s ownership.

“Spread your legs,” Nate says hoarsely. Brad complies, even as Nate crawls between his thighs and knees them further apart. “Open up so I can look at what’s mine.”

Brad tucks his knees to either side of his hips so Nate can look his fill. His ass is spread open; his balls hang heavily between his legs and his cock is hard and heavy. Brad knows he looks like a dirty cock-slut and doesn’t give a fuck.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re so goddamn beautiful,” Nate suspires. “I’m never letting anyone this close to you, ever.”

Brad pushes back when he feels Nate’s thumb slide along the crack of his ass.

A sharp sting on one ass cheek makes him gasp. When it dulls into a mild burn he moans. Nate’s hand on the base of his spine holds him steady. With a steady rhythm, Nate flicks the knife tip over the skin of Brad’s ass cheeks. Brad doesn’t like the sting but the burn that it melts into makes his dick throb. He’s sure there are red welts all along his ass. He’s confident there’s no blood because Nate’s good with the knife. The marks are surely there and that’s all that matters to Brad.

Brad tenses when Nate’s hand shifts to grasp the front of his thigh. His grip is bruising but it’s clear he wants Brad to hold still. Brad trembles in Nate’s grip as a fresh shot of adrenaline spikes through his system.

Brad’s holding his breath and it bursts out of him at the feel of Nate dragging the sharp tip of the Ka-Bar along the crease between this ass and thigh. Nate doesn’t let him catch his breath before he drags the knife along the crease above Brad’s other thigh. For the next few day, he’s going to feel that when he sits down. Nate is a diabolical motherfucker.

Suddenly, both of Nate’s hands are on Brad’s ass. His muscles are squeezed and kneaded. Nate’s palms are rough on Brad’s abraded skin. Pain spikes through him and more adrenaline floods his body. He sighs with pleasure.

“If anyone gets a look at your ass, they’ll know it belongs to me,” Nate says, triumph and satisfaction, both lacing his tone. “You’re gonna be thinking of me all fucking week, aren’t you, Brad?”

“Fuck yes, sir,” Brad replies, surprised by his own lack of shame. “I do anyway, but now I’m gonna feel you, too.”

Nate makes a wordless sound approval. Brad’s ass is spread wide, Nate’s fingers digging into his flesh painfully. When he feels Nate’s hot, wet tongue lick the length of his crack, Brad can’t help the needy sounds that escape him.

Brad’s system is overloading with sensation. Nate’s tongue is relentless and demanding. Brad’s nerve endings are lit up like a fire fight. His hole opens up and Nate’s tongue slides inside and Brad can’t take anymore. Against his will, Brad’s body tries to move away from Nate’s assault.

Brad is grateful when Nate has mercy on him and helps him ease down flat on the bed. Gooseflesh rises on his skin when Nate pushes his shirt out of the way to lick the length of Brad’s lower spine, just above his bound hands.

“This is just how I like you,” Nate says, lips pressed to the center of Brad’s back. “Nobody but me can take you to the edge like this, can they?”

“I don’t know, I don’t even let them try.”

Nate growls, low in his throat, pushing his hips against Brad’s ass. Brad hisses in pain when the fabric of Nate’s trousers rubs against his abused skin. He feels Nate’s hard cock pushing against the cleft of his ass. He’s abruptly overwhelmed with the need to have Nate’s dick buried deep inside his ass.

Nate reads his mind. Nate always knows what Brad is thinking. “I’m gonna fuck you,” he says breathlessly. “You like it when I fuck you, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I fuck you just right, don’t I? Nobody fucks you as good as I do, do they?”

“N-n-no, sir.”

Brad hears fabric shifting and the slide of a zipper. Nate shifts and Brad hears the familiar sound of the bedside table drawer opening. He’s conditioned to the snick of the lube bottle lid so his heart pounds when he hears it. Nate’s finger is cold when it pushes roughly into his ass and Brad shivers.

He makes a sound of protest when Nate’s finger disappears almost immediately. Brad’s ass is abruptly stretched by two of Nate’s heavily lubed fingers. He hides his pleased smile in the pillow beneath his head. Nate’s being rough with him. The stretch in his ass sends jolts of pleasure rocketing up his spine.

Brad cants his hips as Nate fucks him with two fingers. He twists his wrist a few times, spreading the lube. Brad is grateful when Nate is quick to add more lube when he slides his fingers free. He has little time to miss them before Nate is shoving three fingers past his rim and deep inside Brad’s ass.

When Nate’s fingers press hard against Brad’s sensitive gland, his knees scramble against the bed. It’s too much pleasure all at once and Brad’s overloaded system can’t process it. Nate’s fingers are going to drag Brad’s orgasm from him in just a few moments.

His nerves jangle when Nate’s fingers disappear. Brad lies gasping against the bed, strangely disappointed and relieved at the same time.

“Are you ready for me?” Nate gasps. “Tell me you’re ready for me to fuck you.”

“Yeah, Nate, come on, fuck me,” Brad encourages, liking the needy desperation in Nate’s voice.

Nate’s hands are brutal as they spread Brad open. The feel of the blunt head of Nate’s cock pushing against his hole barely registers with Brad before he’s stretched and filled. He can’t catch his breath, Nate’s already pounding into him vigorously.

The skin of Brad’s ass is burning as the fabric of Nate’s trousers rubs over him with each thrust. Nate is propped over Brad, fucking down into him. Brad’s chest heaves with each ragged breath. Above him, Nate is grunting loudly. Brad hears him swear under his breath after a particularly brutal snap of his hips.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Nate says in a strained voice. He adjusts his angle slightly and Brad sees stars.

“Nate,” Brad calls desperately. He’s not sure what he needs, he just knows his climax is hurtling toward him. Brad pushes back into Nate with what little leverage he has. Nate’s zipper is scratching against his naked skin and it adds another layer of sensation.

Brad feels Nate’s hands at his wrists and he realizes Nate’s untying him. Disappointment flashes through him, but is gone just a quickly. With his hands free he can touch himself.

His shoulder joints scream but Brad ignores it. He gets his elbows beneath him just as Nate is hauling his hips upward. Brad pushes back into him and grinds himself against the sting of Nate’s zipper scraping against him.

“Get yourself off, Brad.” It’s clearly an order, even if Nate does sound out of breath. “I wanna feel you come.”

Brad pushes back with arm pressed to the bed as Nate slams into him fast and hard. He wraps his other hand around his aching, straining erection and strokes. Brad grips himself tight and strokes as fast as he’s able. Nate’s cock is stretching him just right, pressing deep into that one spot that makes Brad so fucking desperate.

“Don’t stop,” he says. His voice is so torn he can barely hear himself. “Keep fucking me. Just keep fucking me.”

Nate’s trousers make Brad’s skin burn. The zipper scrapes him just right. Nate’s cock is perfect inside of him. Brad just needs a few more moments.

“You’re close. I can feel you,” Nate grunts as he adjusts his hard grip on Brad’s hips.

“Don’t stop,” Brad growls. “Don’t fucking stop.”

Nate slams his cock into Brad’s ass. Brad comes with a suddenness that shocks him. He pushes back to keep himself impaled on Nate’s dick. Euphoria washes through him, chasing the mind bending pleasure that rockets through his system and settles itself in his lower belly. Brad worries for a fraction of a second that he’s coming onto the bed’s comforter, but it’s quickly forgotten. His come pools beneath him, his balls pumping string after string out the end of his dick.

When his erection flags and becomes painfully sensitive, Brad props himself on both elbows.

“That was so fucking awesome,” Nate moans and he leans over Brad’s back.

“Now you,” Brad demands. “Come inside me.”

Nate leaves his forehead pressed to Brad’s back as he moves. It only takes him a few strokes before he’s coming, cock buried deep inside of Brad’s ass.

“Can you feel me?” Nate whispers against Brad’s sweaty skin. “Can you feel me filling you up with my come?”

Brad ends up face down on the bed, the cold pool of his own come pressing to his belly. Nate collapses on top of him, chest heaving the same as Brad’s.

When Brad can speak again, he asks, “Were you really pissed off at Sarah for hitting on me?”

“Fuck yes,” Nate replies fiercely. “I’m pissed at Todd, too, but I’ll take that up with him directly. I don’t like the way she was looking at you. I don’t like that she touched you. I don’t like that she couldn’t take a fucking hint.”

Brad chuckles. He feels Nate tense against him.

“You’re not pissed off at _me_ are you?” Nate asks.

“Don’t be stupid,” Brad says with a derisive snort. “Now would you hurry up and get naked so we can go to sleep.”

~*~

They’re at some fundraiser for a political candidate Nate says is important. It wasn’t anyone Brad is eligible to vote for so he didn’t pay any attention. He’s just wearing a suit Nate likes and hasn’t strayed far from his side.

Until now. Nate had gone to the bar for the two of them and had been waylaid on his return. Brad’s killed time by letting himself be chatted up by the guy standing next to him. Now that he looks a little closer, the guy is actually pretty hot.

Brad glances in Nate’s direction and finds him already watching, a frown marring his expression. An unexpected thrill runs up Brad’s spine at Nate’s dark look. He very deliberately lifts just the corner of his mouth in a smile, before turning back toward the hot guy next to him and smiling fully.

His companion is shorter than Nate, right around six feet. He has dark hair and eyes and Brad can’t be more pleased when the guy blushes and returns his smile. It’s the perfect reaction to get a rise out of Nate.

When Brad again turns to Nate, he finds Nate fuming. Brad’s breath catches in his chest and his cock stirs between his legs. It won’t take much, now.

He returns his attention to the guy next to him. When Brad answers the next question he’s asked, he runs a hand down the guy’s arm. He looks to make sure Nate has seen the touch. Heat pools in Brad’s belly when he sees Nate’s murderous expression.

Brad feels a hand on his arm. Without looking away from Nate, he covers the hand with his own. Nate abruptly excuses himself from the group who is vying for his attention. He stalks stiffly across the room, his destination more than obvious.

Nate’s grip on Brad’s arm is bruising. “You’ll excuse us?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before dragging Brad away through the crowd.

Brad catches the barest glimpse of the hot guy’s surprised and confused expression before he’s forced to follow Nate. Follow doesn’t actually describe it. Nate drags him out of the party by his arm. Brad’s blood heats in his veins and his cock hardens.

He resists Nate, taking slower steps and tugging against Nate’s hand. “You’re making a scene,” Brad says, feigning anger.

“You brought this on yourself,” Nate growls. He pushes them both through the door and into the breezeway.

“That’s bullshit.”

“I saw you fucking flirting with him.”

“I was talking to him. Aren’t you the one who’s always telling me I need to learn to be more social?”

They reach an outside door and Nate shoves Brad through it, causing him to stumble. “Since when do you talk with your hands?” Nate shoves him up against the rough wall of the building. “He was all over you and you touched him back.”

Brad’s head smacks against the wall. He’s pressed against the building by the weight of Nate’s body. He can feel Nate’s erection pushing against him.

“You wandered off and left me alone.” Brad doesn’t give a shit that he sounds whiny. “You were ignoring me. I got bored.” His intent is only to fire up Nate even more.

“You _know_ I don’t like people touching what’s _mine.”_ Nate puts his hands on Brad’s shoulders and shoves him to his knees. He isn’t gentle about it. “You fuckin’ encouraged him. You touched him back.”

“You weren’t there for me to touch.”

Brad’s breathing is constricted by Nate’s fingers wrapping around his throat. He’s forced to look upward into Nate’s face. “I’m gonna smell him on you, aren’t I? You’re gonna make me mark you up, aren’t you?”

“Think you can make me feel it?” Brad challenges, wanting Nate to push them both.

Nate’s face twists in rage. Brad is dragged to his feet by Nate’s hand in his suit coat. He stumbles toward the car when Nate shoves him.

“I think you’ve forgotten who you belong to,” Nate says low and with menace.

Brad can barely sit still as they drive home. His cock is hard with anticipation. His skin feels stretched too tight, almost like it doesn’t fit him.  Brad needs something; he’s just not sure what.

Beside him, Nate is calming down. He’s still angry, but his intensity is waning and desperation washes over Brad like a cold Pacific wave. He’d die for Nate; knows Nate would do the same, but that all feels so passive and banal anymore.

“No one in that room had any idea I belong to you,” Brad says, as if there’d been no break in their conversation. “You wandered away and ignored me.”

“And you were ready to open your ass for the first pretty thing that glanced in your direction,” Nate’s words are clipped and his tone is low and hostile.

“That’s right.” Brad reaches for the most provocative thing he can say. “You don’t give a shit about me, you’re just pissed that someone tried to take what you think is yours.” He delivers the coup de grace. “You bet your fuckin’ ass I’ll spread for someone man enough to take me.”

Nate’s knuckles whiten on the steering wheel. Brad knows he’s had good effect on target. It’s all bullshit and they both know it, but he wants Nate pushed to the edge so he’ll push back, and push hard.

“It sounds like you need reminding that I don’t like other people touching my things,” Nate growls. “And that _you_ most definitely belong to me.”

Brad’s mouth runs dry with a hot spike of lust. He can’t help shifting in his seat as his cock pushes painfully against his fly. “I forget because you forget.”

“I never forget,” Nate snaps. “And since I can’t always be there to make you feel like a special snowflake, I’ll have to leave a mark on you that’ll let others know they’re making a mistake when they touch what’s mine.”

A tendril of fear snakes up his spine, surprising Brad with its intensity. He likes the idea of bearing a permanent - albeit private - mark that would declare him as belonging to Nate. He’d pushed things this night, though. He’d deliberately incited Nate’s ire and he is a strong and dangerous man.

“It’ll be a little late by then, don’t you think?” Brad asks caustically. “If I’ve let them get far enough to even see it?”

“Maybe you need to understand just how pissed off you make me when you doubt how I feel about you.”

Brad’s breath catches at the soft spoken intensity of Nate’s voice. He knows how Nate feels about him but something dark and petty in him suddenly wants to hear it. Part of him fears Nate won’t stop at words. Has Brad pushed Nate _too_ far? Does Nate really think Brad would seriously entertain offers from other people?

They reach the house and Brad has to concentrate on walking with his hard-on. He knows he needs to be ready for anything. Nate’s going to blitz attack him; he knows this, he wants this. He needs to be ready.

They always leave a dim light on when they’re out and Nate doesn’t bother turning any others on when they enter. He simply locks the door behind them. Nate stalks Brad slowly, gesturing toward the stairs with his chin. Brad backs his way up and toward the bedroom, not daring to turn is back on Nate.

The room is lit by only a single bedside lamp. Brad reaches the foot of the bed and stops.

“Are you going to submit?” Nate asks, sliding his suit coat off of his shoulders and reaching for his tie. “Or do I have to take you down?”

“You have to prove you can take me down before I’ll submit.” Brad recognizes the intent behind this exchange; negotiation.

“If I take you down I’m going to tie you up and blindfold you,” Nate responds. “You putting up a fight might make me leave marks I don’t intend.”

Brad shrugs indolently, granting consent.

Nate’s attack is quick and violent. Brad crashes to the floor, Nate’s weight immediately on top of him. He struggles, making Nate actually work for it. He lifts his hips but can’t dislodge Nate from his perch. Brad’s sure he could break Nate’s hold if he hurt him, but then he wouldn’t get laid.

Nate uses his tie to bind Brad’s hands. He’s breathing heavy, but no heavier than Brad. Nate shifts and Brad can feel his hard-on where it presses against his belly. Brad’s breath is slightly constricted when Nate grips his throat tightly. He uses that grip to hold Brad in place as he leans over and tugs hard on the bottom drawer of the bureau. He pulls it free of its rails, the contents shifting loudly.

Brad can see Nate pull several things from the drawer, many he recognizes, others he doesn’t. Nate places several lengths of brightly colored ropes next to Brad’s head, letting him see them. On top of the ropes, he places the Ka-Bar he has slipped from its sheath.

Brad’s tie is stripped from his neck. He’s trying to get a look at some of the things spilling out of the drawer. There are things he hasn’t bargained for. Nate’s collected several edged items. Others are sharply pointed. Most all made entirely of metal. Brad swallows hard against Nate’s hand still wrapped around this throat.

He gasps when Nate’s grip loosens, but then he’s blinded by his own tie as it’s secured behind his head. His heart slams against his ribs violently.

Nate’s chest presses against his own. Brad’s bound hands are pinned to the floor above his head. His cheek is scraped by the stubble on Nate’s as warm breath drifts across the shell of his ear.

“Give me your safeword,” Nate whispers. Brad’s final act of consent wrapped up in the assurance of his safety.

He gives Nate his safeword.

Nate’s heat and weight leave him. Brad is tugged roughly to his feet by his bound hands. He struggles but it’s futile; Nate’s ready for him and it’s half-hearted at best. Brad _wants_ to feel the heat of Nate’s jealousy and the sting of a sharp blade against his throat.

He’s pushed face down on the bed, unable to get a leg underneath to break his fall. He gets to his elbows but Nate promptly yanks them out from under him. Brad grunts as Nate buries a knee in his kidney, pain lancing sharply in all directions. It’s an effective restraint, though. Brad’s not going anywhere.

Nate shifts and his legs come down to straddle Brad’s torso. Brad starts when Nate’s hot breath is suddenly drifting over the shell of his ear.

“I can’t believe you let him put his fucking hands on you,” his words are a growl, pitched low and directly into Brad’s ear. “You stood there smiling at him, encouraging him. Right in front of me.”

Anxiety sizzles its way up Brad’s spine and clenches his gut. At the same time, his cock throbs and his hips flex involuntarily, grinding against the bed.

There’s pressure at his back and the sounds of rending and tearing. Nate’s cutting Brad’s suit away again. Brad’s breath hitches with desire at the thought of his clothes being sliced from his bound body until he’s naked, while Nate remains fully clothed and wielding the knife.

“You act like you want me to punish you,” Nate says angrily as Brad feels him sever a sleeve. “Fine. I’ll punish you.” Nate isn’t gentle as he slashes the second sleeve and Brad stops breathing, waiting for the sting of the blade slicing into his skin. “Then I’ll remind you who you belong to. Then I’ll mark you, so no one will ever doubt it; including you.”

Brad’s ashamed of the needy moan that escapes him.

Nate is vicious as he cuts through Brad’s clothes and pulls the remnants free. Brad’s skin stings where fabric has dragged against him.

He’s hyper-aware when Nate pulls away from him and leaves the bed. Brad pulls his arms under himself and shifts on the bed. He doesn’t want to evade Nate and knows there’ll be hell to pay for doing it but his body is moving independent of his brain.

Brad grunts when Nate’s weight presses down on his back abruptly. “If you don’t like the consequences, you should give your actions serious consideration,” Nate’s tone is deceptively light. Brad can hear the threat just beneath the surface.

He shivers.

Nate’s gone again and Brad is being dragged up the bed by his bound wrists. He scrambles to assist, if only to ease the burn of the tie against his skin. Nate’s hands are insistent and rough as they force Brad over onto his back. His arms are stretched out over his head and he feels … something … happening to his bonds.

He realizes the sound he’s hearing is rope sliding against itself at the same time he’s secured to the headboard. Brad tugs hard at the bindings but he already knows it’s futile; there’s no give. His heart leaps into his throat as he realizes he’s now at Nate’s mercy, and he doesn’t seem to have a lot of it tonight.

Nate’s hand is clasping his throat tightly, choking off Brad’s air. His body tenses, ready to endure the assault.

“I’m going to strip you bare and spread you out so I can put my mark on you.” Nate’s lips move against Brad’s cheek.

Brad’s arms and legs tingle in anticipation as the implication of Nate’s words sinks in. His cock gives a mighty surge. Nate releases him abruptly. There are vague sounds of cloth rustling and the quiet clink of metal on metal just before Nate returns to cut away the last of Brad’s clothing from his body.

Brad slides his legs together reflexively only to feel the flat of a knife blade press against his inner thigh. Four sharp slaps sting his skin and he gasps in surprise even as he widens his legs.

“You keep yourself open,” Nate ordered. “Everything about you belongs to me so you better make sure I have access.”

“Yes, sir,” Brad replied, wondering at the breathy quality of his own voice.

Nate’s hand on his ankle is sudden and Brad tenses. Nate forces his leg upward until his heel is pressed to the back of his thigh. The blade smacks Brad’s thigh again.

“Stop resisting me,” Nate says through clenched teeth.

“Sorry, sir.” Brad’s resistance isn’t intentional. He realizes he needs to relax or Nate’s going to be disappointed in him.

Brad ankle is secured to his thigh with soft cotton rope. Nate knots it securely. He feels vulnerable when Nate secures his other ankle in the same way. Nate’s got access to Brad’s most sensitive areas, just like he wanted.

The bed shifts. Brad extends his situational awareness as far as he can while blindfolded. He listens to Nate’s breathing and senses the heat of his body. He feels Nate crawl over the top of him. Brad strains upward slightly, aching for Nate press against him. He craves a kiss.

Nate doesn’t oblige him. Thin, cold metal presses to his breastbone. Brad startles slightly and the small rush of adrenaline leaves his skin tingling.  He makes a strangled noise, barely audible, in the back of his throat. The metal slides down his chest to his belly. It feels like the dull side of the Kar-Bar blade.

The cool hardness glides along his skin and Brad braces himself for the sudden slice of the sharp blade. It never comes. The sensation is slightly ticklish, his muscles contract in reaction despite Brad’s efforts at stillness.

“Your skin is so beautiful,” Nate murmurs, surprising Brad. “It’s so smooth. So perfect.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The blade disappears and Brad lies tensely, waiting to feel Nate’s next move. He doesn’t wait long before sharp pain bites at his nipple. Nate’s flicking it with what Brad assumes is the tip of the Ka-Bar.

“I think your skin is _too_ perfect,” Nate’s voice hardens. “I think your skin needs my mark. So there’s no doubt you belong to me.”

“Please,” Brad’s response is strong and sure.

The blade tip flicks across his other nipple and it stings. “Please what?” Nate sounds angry.

“Mark me,” Brad blurts, even as he fears Nate will mark him by slicing off his nipple. “Please, sir,” he adds placatingly.

The knife blade comes to rest next to Brad’s swollen cock. His erection jumps slightly, even as he shifts his shoulders nervously against the bed.

“You need my mark on you to keep you loyal, don’t you?” Nate asks derisively. “So others know not to touch you?”

“Fuck no,” Brad replies sharply before catching himself. “For me, sir. It’s just for me.” He can’t say more so he trusts Nate understands. Nate’s always understood before.

The blade glides slowly along the base of Brad’s cock. He waits for the searing pain that never comes. Nate must have the spine of the blade - thankfully - pressed to him.

“Watching him touch what belongs to me,” Nate says in a low voice. “Watching him touch _you_ pissed me off. I should just cut your dick off so no one will want you.”

Fear rockets through Brad’s body until he can barely hear over the sound of his own pulse. He’s afraid Nate might actually do it, but he also revels in the knowledge that Nate feels so deeply for him. Brad wants to feel the mark of Nate’s possessiveness.

“If you cut it off then you can’t use it,” Brad finally thinks to gasp. “It’s yours.” He pauses before he whispers, “I’m yours.” Brad’s not sure why he said that and he hopes Nate didn’t hear.

“For something that’s mine, you’re awfully quick to give it to someone else,” Nate’s every word was sharp and clipped.

The knife disappears for a second and is back immediately. Brad gasps at the feel of it, slicing against is cock several times. He tenses and waits for the excruciating pain that never comes. He’d been sure Nate would use the sharpened side of the blade.

“I didn’t, sir,” Brad denies, relief obvious in his voice. “You didn’t come for me.” They keep coming back to this.

Brad feels Nate surge upward over his body. He’s directly over Brad now, Ka-Bar pressing into Brad’s throat.

“So this is all my fault?” Nate demands, pushing the blade hard into Brad’s throat.

“No, sir.” He really means yes. If Nate would just mark Brad so that he could feel claimed. He wants to know that Nate _wants_ him.

“I can’t believe you’re blaming me,” Nate says against Brad’s lips, his voice is laced with danger.

Brad wants to chase Nate’s mouth when it retreats but he’s afraid to push too hard against the blade at his throat. Frustration rolls over him. This isn’t going the way he wants. “You keep saying you’re going to mark me but you don’t do it. Don’t have the stomach for it?”

Nate’s other hand grabs Brad’s face, hard enough to bruise. The blade slices along the flesh of Brad’s throat several times in rapid succession. Brad gasps, his body tensing as he waits for the searing pain and the feel of his blood coursing from his body. It doesn’t come. His relieved exhalation is explosive.

Nate’s gone; the heat of his body and the strength of his hands disappear and Brad misses them immediately. The bed shifts and Brad feels alone.

“You want my mark on you?” Nate demands, suddenly back between Brad’s legs. “You want me to carve your skin and make you bleed?”

“Fuck yes,” Brad breaths, anticipation warring with dread.

Nate’s clothed thighs press against Brad’s naked skin. His hands are strong and warm. His cock is hard where it presses against Brad’s when he leans over. Brad is momentarily triumphant when he realizes Nate’s as turned on as he is by the violence flowing between them.

Brad feels the skin of his chest pulled taut by one of Nate’s hands. A sharp sting bites his flesh. He feels the point of the Ka-Bar part his skin as Nate wields it with a competent hand.

“It’s so fucking hot, watching my knife carve your skin,” Nate murmurs. “I didn’t realize I’d enjoy making you bleed as much as I like making you come.”

Brad says nothing as he struggles to hold still. He doesn’t dare interfere with Nate’s work. Instead, he blocks out the pain. He’s good at that. Brad’s had a lot of experience pushing through his pain.

He feels his blood running down his chest in thin rivulets. It tickles slightly. Nate pauses in his carving to wipe the blood away with a rough cloth. It leaves the wounds burning.

“Nice,” Nate sighs. “But it might leave too much open to interpretation. I think I need to clarify my message.”

Nate shifts and Brad feels his hard cock press against his own. Brad shudders when Nate’s hand slides down his ribs and comes to rest over his hipbone.

“Right here, next to your dick.” Nate’s fingers skate lightly over the skin of Brad’s hip and lower belly. “There won’t be any mistaking my meaning.”

There is shifting and Brad’s leg is manipulated against the ropes until Nate seems comfortably wrapped around it. He struggles to control his breathing and wonders if Nate can hear the thunderous beat of his heart.

Brad grunts at the first feel of Nate’s knife point carving into the sensitive skin of his belly and over his hipbone. He struggles to hold still. Immediately, he feels his blood flow from the wound and pool on his belly. More rivulets run down his side.

The pain bites at him. Nate’s fingers do nothing to sooth and gentle. The swipes of the cloth Nate uses to clear away the blood make the stinging burn more intense. Brad wants it over with. The pain is nothing; Brad’s felt worse. His helplessness is eating at him he wants to see how Nate has branded him. Brad wants to see how Nate has staked his claim.

He feels Nate sit back on his heels. “There,” satisfaction is evident in Nate’s voice. “Even if you forget who you belong to, anyone stupid enough to try to get you naked will have no doubt.”

Brad aches to see. Nate’s claimed him and marked him and it feels permanent. Brad’s high with endorphins and dark triumph. He belongs now, and it makes him almost fucking giddy. Now if he could just feel Nate against him; feel Nate’s weight on top of him and his cock inside of him.

“Thank you, sir,” Brad says, struggling to sound docile and submissive. He squirms slightly, lifting his hips, hoping Nate will take the hint. “How should I show my appreciation?”

When he feels Nate lean over him, Brad struggles to suppress his triumphant smile. He expects to feel the blindfold lifted. Instead, the cool flat of the blade presses against Brad’s lips.

“You expect to be rewarded for manipulating me?” Nate asks, his voice tinged with both incredulity and anger.

Brad’s mind races for the correct response. “I didn’t  …”

The tip of the knife is shoved between his lips and clicks against his teeth. The sound is like thunder in his head. “Shut the fuck up, Brad. You let that guy touch you, knowing it would piss me off. Everything you’ve said tonight has been to get me to do what you want me to do. Now you’re playing obedient and submissive because you want me to fuck you.”

Brad is ashamed of the choking sound he makes. He runs his tongue along the metal in his mouth, careful to avoid the sharp cutting edge. He knows Nate has the strength and knowledge to drive the Ka-Bar where it would do the most damage. He holds very, very still. Brad realizes just how fucking stupid he’s been, to think Nate didn’t see right through him every step of the way.

Nate slides the blade in and out of Brad mouth, as if it was a cock. “You want to be fucked?” Nate asks, his light tone is frighteningly false. “You want something of mine inside of you?”

Brad can only grunt as the blade is pressed down against his tongue. He breathes very carefully.

“Answer me,” Nate demands angrily. “Do you want to be fucked?”

Brad’s reluctant answer in the affirmative is muted by the knife in his mouth. The blade slides free and slaps against his lower lip several times. He flinches despite himself.

The bed shifts and Nate’s clothing is rough against his bare skin. Brad tenses and gives an embarrassing cry when two of Nate’s fingers shove their way into his ass. He can’t relax and it makes the sting and burn that much worse.

Nate is thorough in spreading the lube inside of Brad, but he isn’t even trying to bring Brad pleasure. His fingers slide free and return moments later, cold with fresh lube. Brad forces himself not to pull away.

When Nate’s fingers leave him again, Brad expects the chill of lube to return. He’s shocked to feel something hard and unyielding shove its way past the clenching muscles of his hole. His mind screams in protest even as it knows the truth.

Brad ruefully acknowledges he’s getting just what he wanted; he’s getting fucked by something of Nate’s. He forces himself to relax around the hilt of Nate’s Ka-Bar. He can’t even pretend he’s not enjoying it, he’s too aware that his cock is still painfully hard and smearing pre-come on his own belly.

“Look at you,” Nate says softly, “You don’t care what it is, as long as something’s shoved up your ass.”

Brad would protest but it’s too close to the truth. He’d brought this on himself. He’d goaded Nate into this. He’d wanted Nate to use the knife to claim him. Now here he is, at Nate’s mercy and grateful for any attention.

Nate isn’t gentle. He shoves the hilt deep into Brad’s ass, tilting it cruelly to glance against Brad’s prostate. The uneven surface teases the rim of Brad’s hole as Nate withdraws it. His face flames when thinks about what he looks like to Nate’s eyes. He’s trussed up, blindfolded, Nate’s knife buried in his ass and his cock hard and weeping.

“You teased that guy tonight, right in front of me,” Nate growls, shoving the knife hilt deep. “If you’d take his cock up your ass, you don’t deserve mine.”

Brad’s humiliation is complete. He can’t figure out how to get what he needs from Nate without raising his ire instead. “Please.” He hears someone plead, shocked at how it sounds like his own voice. “I’m sorry.”

He feels Nate loom over him and the knife hilt is suddenly working fast, in and out of his hole. Brad struggles to concentrate. Few things cause Brad shame but enjoying a knife hilt shoved up his ass just because it’s held by Nate hand, manages to get the job done.

“What are you sorry for?” Nate demands.

“Flaunting,” Brad replies, struggling to focus as sensation assails him, desired and reviled in equal measure. “Teasing, provoking.”

“You disappointed me,” he voice actually reflects the emotion.

“I’m sorry, sir.” Brad eagerly heads in the direction Nate points him.

“Are you glad I marked you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Would you like to show me your appreciation?”

“Yes, please, sir.”

The knife slides free of Brad’s ass. Nate’s clothing brushes roughly against Brad’s skin as their bodies press together. Brad blinks against the sudden brightness as his blindfold is removed. Immediately, he tries to look down at himself to see Nate’s mark on his body.

A stabbing pain in his chin stops him. Brad looks up into Nate’s hard, glittering eyes. He can tell by Nate’s posture he’s holding a knife to Brad’s skin.

“Keep your eyes on mine,” the order is gently spoken but Brad doesn’t consider disobeying. “I want to be sure you know whose cock is inside you.”

Nate sits back on his heels but the knife stays pressed to Brad’s chin. Brad gasps in surprise when cold lube drizzles down the crack of his ass. He bites back a sound when Nate’s fingers push into his ass, spreading the slick inside. It’s less of a surprise when Nate pours more over him. Nate’s cock glides through the lube that coats his ass and Brad braces, ready for the breach. He relaxes when it doesn’t come and instead, Nate continues to slide against him.  When he feels Nate’s weight over him again, Brad knows he’s still not quite ready. He doesn’t care.

Brad focuses on Nate’s face when it appears above him, cheeks flushed and eyes luminous. He breathes steadily as he feels the head of Nate’s cock nudge his opening. He bites back a shout when Nate gives a hard shove of his hips and breaches Brad’s hole.

“Does that feel good?” Nate demands breathlessly.

“Yes, sir.”

“Does my cock feel good inside you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I want to know that no one else gets to be inside of you.”

“I don’t want anyone else inside of me.”

Nate’s right there, above Brad and inside of him. He can smell Nate’s sweat and sex. Their skin slides together and Brad wonders when he started noticing small things like that. He scoffs at himself for turning into a fucking girl.

His chest and his hip burn with Nate’s brands but he’s got Nate’s cock in his ass and he doesn’t care. He’s full and he’s stretched and Nate’s straining above him. Brad lifts his hips, thrusting up into Nate and trying to get him deeper, hoping he’ll go faster.

It may all fade away in the morning, but tonight, Brad’s got just what he hadn’t realized he needed.

Nate’s rhythm changes. He’s moving erratically again Brad. Nate’s cock sinks deep into Brad’s ass and doesn’t pull back out, but Nate’s body is still quivering and quaking.

Nate’s brow furrows, he looks down into Brad’s eyes, face flushed and sweaty. “I’m gonna come,” he gasps. “I’m gonna come inside your ass so you can feel me.”

“Do it,” Brad whispers.  He watches Nate come, head thrown back, mouth open in ecstasy. He feels Nate’s cock deep inside, pulsing and throbbing as waves of come flood Brad, filling him.

Nate relaxes against Brad. The press of the knife at his throat disappears. Nate produces safety scissors to cut Brad’s hands free. It’s confusing, why he doesn’t use the Ka-Bar. Brad looks down at himself, expecting to see deep cuts and blood flowing darkly. Instead, he finds mere scratches, barely reddened and inflamed. Miniscule amounts of blood well in some of the deeper cuts, but obviously, the feel of flowing blood had been a sensory trick Nate had played on him.

Brad’s disappointment is like a living thing. He runs his fingers over his chest, feeling the raised skin. His eyes connect the lines until he can make out the skull of the Recon logo. Beneath it is etched “2002-2003”. The years he and Nate had served together.

Stretching the skin over his hip, Brad lifts his head to see what Nate had carved there. He understands immediately. It’s a fancy, stylized font but clearly, Nate’s carved his name into Brad’s flesh. FICK is clearly scrawled from his cock to his hip. There’s hardly any blood and Brad knows it will heal in just days.

He lets his head fall back onto the pillow. He swallows hard against his disappointment. His cock is softening in his dejection.

Nate is removing the rest of his own clothing. He’s watching Brad’s face closely as he does. “As long as you’re active duty, I couldn’t risk scaring you,” Nate says quietly. “There’s no other way to interpret my name carved next to your dick. We can’t risk that.”

Brad nods his understanding. He knows Nate’s right but he can’t shake the sense that he’s been set adrift.

Nate crawls the length of Brad’s body, warm skin sliding against warm skin. Brad gasps at the feel of Nate’s long, smooth fingers wrapping around his softening cock. Nate strokes him and Brad pushes up into his fist.

“I still mean it, though,” Nate says. Brad feels the pull and finally meets his eyes. “You and I will both always know it was there.”

Brad’s relief hardens his dick. He feels himself thicken in Nate’s hand, pushes in counterpoint to the stroking fingers.

“Make yourself come,” Nate orders suddenly, sitting back to watch.

Brad does. He wraps one hand around his cock, the other he presses to the angry scratches on his chest. He holds Nate’s gaze as he quickly works his erection. The salt in his skin makes the carving sting but it feels good. Nate made those wounds and the pain reminds Brad he’s been claimed. He lowers his hand to slide his fingers over Nate’s name where it brands his hip. No sooner does he touch the inflamed skin than he comes hard onto his own belly.

Brad knows what that reaction means. He knows it didn’t escape Nate’s gaze, either.

He’s lying boneless as Nate cleans him up. The cloth is wet and warm and the last traces of sweat and come are wiped away. Idly, he looks around at everything Nate had used on him while he’d been blindfolded. When what he’s seeing finally registers, he’s strangely disappointed. There’s not a single sharp tip or cutting edge among them. Each and every one has a rounded tip or a dull edge.

It makes sense. He’s never in any danger with Nate.  

~*~

Brad sits on the edge of the bed, naked. He runs the towel over his hair even as his other hand runs distractedly over his nearly healed hip. He misses Nate’s mark. When his passion had cooled, he’d realized the truth of Nate’s words; there was no way he could actively serve with Nate’s name so prominently written on his hipbone, next to his cock.

It doesn’t stop him from missing it.

Nate slides onto the bed behind him, equally naked. His warm chest presses to Brad’s back.

“I’ll draw it out on a piece of paper,” he says, lips pressing to the side of Brad’s neck. “You can take it to a tattoo artist and have it incorporated into a design that will disguise it.”

Brad’s heart kicks up a pace at the idea of having Nate’s mark on him again, even if it’s hidden so that they’re the only ones who know it’s there.

He nods his acceptance. He’ll make do.


End file.
